


Permanent Scars

by Geonn



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Blood, Disturbing Themes, Drama, F/F, First Meetings, Missing Scene, Origins, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-17
Updated: 2010-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night Jane met Maura left her scarred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permanent Scars

It was all she could do not to scream, not to start weeping as soon as the bastard was taken care of. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction, but Korsak saved the day and saved her, and it was taking every fiber of her being not to start screaming and never stop. Her hands. Dear God, her hands. She couldn't move and didn't dare try to pull her hands free in case that just made things worse. Her face was hot, and she felt tears and sweat pouring down her cheeks and pooling in her hair. Korsak was looking down at her, all wide eyes and stammering reassurances she would be fine. "I-I brought a doctor. Jesus Christ. J-Just hold on. Isles!"

The name wasn't familiar. She closed her eyes and wondered why Korsak had brought a doctor to a potential crime scene. She heard footsteps on the stairs as the world began swimming around her, and she looked over. The cocktail dress had to be a hallucination, the sweep of golden hair pushed out of the way with a wrist so as not to contaminate the bright blue gloves. There was a tag hanging from the lapel of her dress - Jane wondered what the doctor was wearing in real life - and she realized Korsak hadn't brought a doctor.

He'd brought the medical examiner.

The woman looked down at her and said, "Oh, God."

"You gotta help her, Doc."

"I-I can't, I don't... work with live people. I could damage--"

Korsak lowered his voice, hoping Jane couldn't hear, and said, "If we'd been a little later, you would take the nails out. Just do what you would have done then. Please, Doc."

"I could hurt her."

"Not worse than this!" Korsak said, raising his voice. He was obviously on the razor's edge.

Jane swallowed hard. "Don't worry, Korsak. It'll be okay."

Korsak laughed, a harsh and bitter sound that echoed off the concrete walls of the basement. The ME knelt next to her and Jane felt the rubber fingers on her skin.

"Take off the gloves."

"What? Detective, did you--"

"Take off the gloves," Jane said.

"I-I can't contaminate..."

"We know who did this take off the gloves for Christ's sake." She didn't want to feel the rubber on her skin, didn't want them poking and prodding the pins-and-needles of her flesh. It would make her feel like a dead body, like her hands were dead. "Take them off, please, take them off, please, Doctor, please." She was sobbing now, hysterical, and she only let her head drop to the pavement when she saw the blue gloves peeled away and dropped to the side.

"My name is Maura," the woman said.

Jane opened her eyes and whimpered.

"Maura Isles. What's yours?"

She swallowed and said, "Jane Rizzoli."

Maura locked eyes with her and pressed her lips together. Her chin was quaking. "This is going to hurt, Jane." Her voice was soft and on the verge of tears.

"It's okay, Maura."

Maura looked over her shoulder and said, "Detective, do you have your wallet?"

Korsak fumbled, and something was slipped into Jane's mouth between her teeth. She breathed through her nose, reminding herself to buy Korsak a new damn wallet because this one tasted terrible. She started to laugh, and then bit down on the leather and screamed. Maura had a thumb on the inside of her wrist, four fingers on the back, and it felt like the inside of her palm was on fire. She bit down harder to keep herself from yelling at Maura to stop.

"Detective," Maura said. Korsak knelt next to her and Jane felt something wrapped around her palm. All the way around. She was free! Maura stepped over her and knelt by her right hand. "It's okay, Detective Rizzoli, this will be over just as fast. Don't worry..."

Jane opened her eyes and met Maura's gaze. Maura didn't blink. Something in her eyes - the compassion, the caring, or maybe just the tears trembling on the lashes, made Jane trust her. This woman she'd never met before. This stranger.

"I won't hurt you."

Jane nodded and braced herself. She resisted the urge to close her fingers around the last nail, the only nail still in her, and screamed again as Maura pulled it free. Somehow it hurt worse coming out than going in, and Jane felt tears burning in her eyes like gasoline. Her teeth dug into the leather of Korsak's wallet and she kicked her heels against the concrete floor. And then something soft, something cool, was pressed against her bleeding palm.

"Detective?" Maura said. "Look at me, Detective."

Jane reluctantly opened her eyes.

"I'm going to have to close these up. I-I usually don't worry about how it looks, but I won't... your hands are too beautiful. I'll be very careful."

Jane smiled weakly and her gaze shifted to Korsak. He was still applying pressure to her other hand, sweat beading his forehead. Jane spit out his wallet and rested her head on the concrete. Her vision swam. She felt pain in the hand that Maura was holding, but compared to the nails it was nothing. Her arms felt cold up to the elbows.

"You got it, Janey. You made it," Korsak said.

The rest of the night was a blur. The sky was filled with strobes of red and blue, separated by the white beams of headlights. It was all so fucking patriotic that Jane chuckled as she was led out to the ambulance. Maura walked with her, gently holding Jane's bandaged hand. Jane squeezed and Maura stroked her fingers. "Don't do that... you could pull the stitches."

"Dr. Childs..."

"Isles."

"You'll what?" Jane frowned.

Maura smiled. "Dr. Maura Isles."

"Thank you for saving my hands." She didn't want to cry, but she felt the tears on her lips.

Maura bent down and kissed Jane's knuckles. "My pleasure, Detective Rizzoli."

They loaded her into the ambulance and the doors closed, cutting her off from the new medical examiner.

#

Jane woke to a soft sensation in her palm. It was familiar to her by now, so she didn't move and didn't speak until Maura said, "I know you're awake."

"Admiring your work?" Jane asked. She sounded like a disc jockey on a faint radio station, barely audible and full of static caused by sleep.

Maura's fingers traced the scar in the palm of Jane's hand. "Just thinking. If I would have done a better job if I'd been as acquainted with your hands as I am now."

Jane smirked and finally opened her eyes. She cupped her palm and brought it to Maura's face. Maura kissed the warm skin, and Jane curled her fingers to stroke Maura's cheek.

"Are you saying you don't like my battle scars?"

"No," Maura said. "I never knew you without them, so I can't imagine your hands without them."

Jane brushed Maura's hair out of her face. Maura was resting her head on her bent arm, the T-shirt she slept in pulled tight across her breasts. Jane remembered when she saw the shirt, her shock that Maura owned something that wasn't designer. At which point Maura gleefully revealed that Vera Wang had a casual wear collection, and the T-shirt cost more than any shirt Jane had ever owned. Typical Maura. She smirked and said, "It's like they're your scars."

"Well, I did cause them."

"No," Jane said. "You _closed_ them. You healed them." She felt herself getting maudlin and said, "I think you..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Maura leaned in. "Please tell me." She kissed Jane's nose.

"You left three permanent marks on me that night. One on my hands, and the other--"

Maura waited and then said, "What?"

"On my heart."

Maura touched her forehead to Jane's. "Oh."

Maura stroked her fingers down Jane's palm and then laced their fingers together and squeezed. They kissed, and Jane pulled Maura closer to her. With anyone else, Jane would try to hide her scars. She would be embarrassed of them. But Maura was different. Maura traced the scars with her fingertips, kissed them, pressed them to her cheek as she kissed Jane's wrist. With anyone else, they would just be scars.

With Maura they were reminders of the night her life changed forever.


End file.
